When We Are Together, MicroHorror, January 2011

Not long now… just another ten days and then we’ll be together. But the days go so slowly. I can scarcely wait.

How sweet you looked this morning walking to the bus stop, that pink dress flaring prettily around your slender legs. You turn heads, you know. So much so that I knew no-one would ever notice me, strolling along behind you.

Sitting right behind you on the bus, inhaling your perfume (spicy, heady, but rather strong) I decided that when we’re together you probably won’t wear that. No. Something rather more fragrant, flowery… we can choose it together if you like.

I thought you might leave your office at lunchtime, as you normally do, but I was disappointed. I waited for a good hour, but you didn’t show. As a rule, I don’t like it when people don’t keep to their routine. I find it upsetting. But we can work on that, no problem. We’ve got plenty of time.

When you called at the wine bar after you left work this evening, I was right behind you again. Those girls you were with seemed quite uncouth, noisy, completely lacking in grace. Not your type. I thought you seemed a little uncomfortable around them. I think it might be better if you don’t see them any more once we’re together.

And that lout who kept leering at you from across the room… touching your elbow at the bar… made me very angry. Couldn’t he tell, just looking at you, that you were out of his league? I had to deal with him later on. Luckily he cut through the underpass to the bus station so I had a word or two with him there. Well, we didn’t exactly speak… but I think he understood me. At the end.

It took a while, though. That’s why I couldn’t follow you home.

But I know you got home safely. I was watching from the shadows opposite your house, waiting for your bedroom light to go on. It was worth the wait, though it was turned midnight when you went to bed. I’m a bit of an “early to bed” person myself. You’ll soon get used to that, though. And you’ll feel better for it.

I caught a quick glimpse before you closed the curtains, your long hair swinging loosely across your shoulders. I prefer short hair myself–I hate all those messy hairs that gather round the plug hole in the shower. That’s something we can talk about, though, when we’re together.

Last night I lay awake thinking about the things we can do together, all that we can share over the years to come. I’ve been so lonely, you know. Since the last one left. Rather suddenly, I thought, and without explanation. That mustn’t happen again.


Are you nervous? I expect so, being away from home for the first time. But don’t worry. I knew when you came to view the apartment that we would be perfect flat-mates, and I could see you knew it too. It was in your eyes.

I’ll look after you. We girls need to stick together.

  • Copyright: © 2010 Sandra Crook
  • Published by MicroHorror.com, January 2011

About Sandra

I used to cruise the French waterways with my husband four or five months a year, and wrote fiction and poetry. Now I live on the beautiful Dorset coast, enjoying the luxury of being able to have a cat, cultivating an extensive garden and getting involved in the community. I still write fiction, but only when the spirit moves me - which isn't as often as before. I love animals, F1 motor racing, French bread and my husband, though not necessarily in that order.
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